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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611455">Lost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colaris/pseuds/Colaris'>Colaris</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman: Arkham - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arkham Verse, GCPD, Gen, fear toxin, post arkham knight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:41:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colaris/pseuds/Colaris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the terrible events of Arkham Knight, James Gordon visits Jonathan Crane in the hospital quarantine. //Post Arkham Knight</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James Gordon stepped towards the large hospital and looked up at the red letters. The last of them hung visibly crooked from the heavily damaged building. There were still so much to do since what happened a month ago in Gotham City. A whole month without Batman. The commissioner rubbed his moustache and entered the clinic. A young woman was sitting at the information desk, clearly busy to organize what was going around her in the lively entrance hall. James leaned slightly against the desk and waited quietly for the nurse. Today he was in absolutely no rush. The young woman put down the phone, then looked at Gordon with a friendly smile. She brushed a finger through her dark blonde hair and spoke very politely to the unexpected visitor: “How can I help you today, Commissioner Gordon?" The older man returned the smile, then said calmly: "Nothing to serious. I just wanted to see Jonathan Crane – at least if it's possible right now." The addressed swallowed loudly, then turned to the phone with a small apology. She quickly pressed a series of buttons and held the phone to her ear again. At the other end, someone seemed to have answered. She almost whispered into the mouthpiece: “Yes, the Commissioner is here. He wants to see him. Damn it, of course him. Who else? So, same question: is that possible at the moment?” The nurse nodded a few times, then hung up. She turned back to Gordon and pointed to the elevator, adding excitedly: “You have to go to the eighth floor. Our monitored quarantine station is located there.” The man at the counter thanked her and turned to leave. Suddenly the young woman's voice rang out again. She mumbled softly: “Are you absolutely sure you really want to see him, Commissioner? After everything he did to you and your daughter?" The white haired man paused briefly, then replied reassuringly: "We have arrested him successfully and I have to make sure that he is kept safe and sound until his trial." Without further words, Gordon stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the eighth floor. A soft melody played in the elevator, easing the serious situation a little bit. The Commissioner watched the board with the numbers, which slowly counted up. Finally the bell rang out and the metal door opened with a low hiss. Another reception came to light. An old woman was also sitting at this one, although she seemed much more relaxed than the girl in the entrance hall. She looked up from her computer and smiled warmly at him. How long has this nurse been working here? Gordon couldn't tell. At least as long as he was with GCPD. He greeted her kindly and asked cannily: “I want to see Jonathan Crane. Is that possible at the moment?" The addressed briefly typed something into her PC, then turned back to the Commissioner: "In principle it is of course possible, but you will not get much out of him. His condition has not improved since your last visit, Gordon."</p><p>The police officer sighed softly. Whatever Scarecrow had done to the citizens of Gotham in the horrible night, the devil himself didn't deserve such a terrible condition the rogue was in right now. James brushed this thought aside and replied calmly: “I will try to figure out his state myself, but thanks for the information. Maybe I'll get a word out of him this time.” The old woman frowned. Finally she found the clipboard with the registration and handed it to the visitor. The Commissioner accepted it with a quiet thanks and sat down on one of the three chairs to the side. The printed form was filled out quickly. He returned to the counter and handed the paper to the nurse, winked at her. She gave him a quick nod, then pressed the button for the heavy double doors. “It's the last room on the right in the corridor. Please contact a nurse who will unlock the door for you”, the old woman explained and tried to crack up a smile. The doors swung open and cleared the way to the quarantine station. The white haired man thanked her again before stepping over the threshold. The doors closed behind him, leaving him in the false light of the ceiling. The dull white looked unnatural and wrong. Like the whole station. Each of the rooms was locked from the outside several times. A prison in a hospital. Gordon walked leisurely through the corridor, looking into the rooms from time to time through the small windows on the doors. Often something moved in the four walls behind it, but it was hard to actually get the hint who it was. Still, one fact remained. This were all extremely dangerous criminals who had lost their minds and were to be turned over to Arkham - as soon as the asylum was completely rebuilt. Until then, the worst of them stayed in the improvised cells. A loud voice to his left drew his attention to one of the leading madmen. Jervis Tetch. He literally pressed his face against the pane of glass and panted hard, then spoke loudly to the police officer: “Gordon! Get me out of here! What a horror. I do not belong here. I have to go, I need to find Alice! I don't have time to rot here! Please, release the poor, poor Mad Hatter. I beg you!” The addressee put his hands in his trouser pockets and kept his face straight. Jervis was one of the absolutely weirdest individuals from Arkham. His psychosis was special, almost impossible to cure or treat. A life sentence in a psychiatric asylum was planned for him. Exactly the same was true for the actual reason of his visit. He ignored the Mad Hatter's loud shouts and continued down the long corridor. Among Jervis Tetch, the Riddler and Two-Face were also in the single cells on this floor. However, both of them made literally no sound. Maybe they were sleeping or minding their own business. Especially Edward wasn't known to keep his mouth shut for one minute and constantly got on everyone's nerves around him in no time. Halfway through the walk, Gordon heard a blood curdling scream. This made him actual shudder. The Commissioner stopped at the nurses' room and knocked on the door with a faint smile. The two attendants sat up instantly, almost alarmed, but relaxed again when they spotted the policeman. One of them took a green wine gum out of a bag and greeted Gordon cheerfully: “Hey Commissioner. Have you lost your way to us again? How can we help you?” The older man took a step towards him, then reached into the plastic bag. “I love the red ones”, the white haired man commented on his behaviour and ate a piece with relish.</p><p>He chewed on the gum until he answered the guy: “I want to visit Jonathan Crane today. Can you open the door for me?” One of the men rose and motioned for Gordon to come with them. He went ahead, then asked hesitantly: “Do you really want to go in there? I mean, come on, you can hear what's been going on here since he was brought in. Not a free minute without his screams.” The addressee shrugged his shoulders slightly, then replied calmly: “It's my job to make sure everything is okay.” The nurse sighed softly and nodded, then went to the last door in the corridor with Gordon. The little window gave away the madman's position in the dark room. He was firmly strapped to a bed, obviously immobilized. The body stretched in unusual movements, seemed to want to burst under the chains and leather straps. Another loud scream came from his room. After a few seconds the Commissioner turned to the nervous man: “Will you open the door for me, please? I'll get along with him, don't worry.” The man put the key in the keyhole and turned the iron twice. There was a loud crack and the door swung open. The white haired man thanked the nurse, then entered the small room. The door closed behind him, leaving him alone with Scarecrow and a wide variety of overwhelming memories. The rogue lay panting on the bed, hands and feet firmly tied to the metal frame, turned and twisted in all possible directions to escape his never ending nightmare. His fingers literally clawed into the leather straps, pulled on the chains that were attached to them. A clear liquid slowly flowed into the former psychiatrist body via a drip. Probably another attempt to cure him of his own damn anxiety serum. Since Batman disappeared, it has obviously taken longer to develop a cure for all the weird poisons going on in Gotham. So they tried a variety of drugs on Jonathan - so far without a great success. Gordon grabbed the folder by the bed, opened the documentation. He sat down at the small table inside the room and began to read: “The patient remains unresponsive to words. As soon as he is touched he falls into a convulsive panic attack. This makes it difficult to feed him. This is now taken over by a gastric tube.” Another font was indented between these lines. This confirmed the regular use of feeding tubes to transfer enough nutrition to Jonathan's system. Gordon pushed his glasses up a little and read on: “The patient is not responsive, but screams as soon as the lorazepam level drops. A permanent sedative solution is not planned, but is currently felt to be necessary.” The Commissioner closed the file and sighed heavily. A clear case of absolute madness. This condition should protect the criminal from worse punishment in court. Would it be of any use to report to Scarecrow that the entire population of Gotham wanted his death?</p><p>It was indeed a growing movement that called for his demise. Especially after Batman's sudden death. Gordon still couldn't believe it. Bruce Wayne had been Batman all these years and he hadn't noticed. How many times had they met in many different situations. Whether as Batman or Playboy. All of Gotham had been shocked by the revelation and still lots of voices screamed that this was just a very bad hoax. A loud scream drew the white haired man's attention to the body in front of him. The mask had been removed or sewn off from him. A disfigured face could be seen underneath. His lips were almost completely missing, as was his nose and half of one eyelid. Additionally, his cheeks had been torn in an unknown way. All efforts to find out where his injuries came from had so far failed. The only witness now lay in front of him and screamed his soul out in pure agony. Did he even still have one? The eyes stared blank and cold at the ceiling, never really blinked or moved. The older man knew about the blindness of the other, but seeing it for himself was something of a weird satisfaction. Yes, Gordon hated this man. For his plan he played a perfidious game with him and almost killed Barbara. He no longer had any sympathy for this criminal. Even in this battered state, the white haired man felt no pity. This monster was to blame for the deaths of many good people. Another scream squeezed from Scarecrow's dry throat. Apparently the lorazepam no longer worked or they had just changed the infusion. Gordon put his fingers around the bed rail, then snarled to Jonathan with a hint of anger: “Just be glad that you don't know what's going on around you any more. That would even scare you, John.” He had whispered the last words. Suddenly the grey eyes stared into those of the Commissioner, stayed for a long time on the man's face. Did the former psychiatrist understand what the white haired man had said? The shackles rustled softly again when suddenly clear words came out of the monster's mouth: “Kill me. Please.” The addressee wrinkled his forehead. Suddenly Scarecrow's cold hand grabbed the Commissioner's wrist and held him tight. The deep voice croaked again: "Please just kill me. Release me from my eternal suffering." Gordon shook his hand from his wrist, took a step back from the bed.</p><p>He muttered loudly: “A monster like you doesn't deserve the redemptive death, Jonathan. Not after what you've done to us. So many people died because of you and who knows how many more would have lost their lives if Batman wouldn't have stopped you in the night. You should actually rot in hell for your sins!” The man on the bed lingered quietly for a moment, then blinked and looked at the ceiling again. He gasped softly, seemed to have slowly slipped into his psychosis again. A loud scream came from his throat as his grey eyes closed tightly. He turned his head back and forth, suffered terrible agony caused by the fear serum. The Commissioner stepped to the door, turned back one more time to Scarecrow: "You will have a fair process, Jonathan. Don't expect more kindness from us towards a pathetic creature like you. I wouldn't actually identify you as a human being any more, but in terms of law I need to at least treat you like one. You will be found guilty and locked away in Arkham. Hopefully forever.” The white haired man stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Immediately another scream came from behind him from the doomed room. When he arrived at the nurses' room, he briefly gave notice that he was done, then went purposefully to the ward door. This opened again with a low creak and opened the way out of this illusory world. The Commissioner exhaled with relief and thanked the nurse again for her help. He went down the elevator, thinking for a moment about the short conversation with Scarecrow. Now he was nothing more than a sick man who would slowly age in a psychiatric hospital over the years and at one point die alone in his misery. Locked away from all living things. "You deserve this terrible fate, John", Gordon whispered into the emptiness of the elevator. These words got lost in the almost happy song. A small smile played on the man's lips as the door opened in front of him and beautiful sunlight literally flooded the small room. Everything would get better in Gotham. Eventually.</p>
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